


Trust in Me.  1/1.

by punky_96



Category: Grey's Anatomy
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-07
Updated: 2018-04-07
Packaged: 2019-04-19 13:25:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14238243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punky_96/pseuds/punky_96
Summary: Re-post from LJ.There was a time where I was taking Disney out of context and having a lot of fun with it.  This one has the lyrics of 'Trust in Me' from the Jungle Book.  It has nothing to do with it other than how the words could be used.AU. Erica is running—will it be enough?  Vampire Callie.





	Trust in Me.  1/1.

**_Trust In Me_**  
  
**_Trust in me, just in me  
Shut your eyes and trust in me  
You can sleep safe and sound  
Knowing I am around_**  
  
*** *** ***  
  
Blonde hair fell back on the pillow and her lips opened slightly as she moaned in delight. The bed so lush, the colors so deep, and the night so luxuriously long—she found herself lost in the sensations. Outside she could hear the revelers, feel the beat of the drum like her pulse heavy in her ears. The wine that was not wine, the dinner that was so much more—she found herself lost in a rolling sea of passion.  
  
She had been on the run for months now: running to avoid discovery, running to find herself, and running just to run. The truth was she had finally felt something. The ice around her heart had finally cracked and she was scared. Everything that she thought she knew about herself had been turned on its ear during her short tenure at SGH. Even now she could not stay in one place, she could not afford to rest, if she did her demons would certainly catch up to her. Well, one demon really, although demon was not the right word for her. Rest was a joke anyway. Sleep had eluded her since she started to see leaves.  
  
What glorious leaves they were, too. Leaves that shifted like tree nymphs until they were curvy brown goddesses with sparkling brown eyes and that dazzled her every sense and sensibility. In the end though, it came down to focus and her glasses at last revealed that she was looking at one goddess, one lover, one woman that had so totally captured her senses. Only one twinkling pair of eyes, one body covered with the softest skin she had ever felt and the ice queen had melted. She had become the moonlight that the wood nymph had frolicked naked under.  
  
It had come to light that a heart was stolen.  
  
The ice queen raged against the machine that would let this happen, but the light of the little moon in her heart flickered and she knew, she knew that she would have stolen this heart for her lover. She knew she would have done it in a second. It was a tough pill to swallow, but she wanted to be the moon for this delicate nymph that delighted her senses.  
  
On the heels of this realization came the revelation that her own heart had been stolen.  
  
It was in the hands of the nymph, who entranced her out of herself, until she was lost in a sea of emotion and she dared to hope—LOVE.  
  
The straw that broke the camel’s back came in the early moonlight with the flash of teeth and a promise of a million tomorrows. The offer to write the story of them over and over through the ages in any form they wanted. To mate. Forever.  
  
This was that.  
  
There was no gray area.  
  
One bite. One destiny. One love.  
  
The blonde had spun out of control, disappearing into the dark of a parking lot after what appeared to be a trivial fight. Her heart wanted to jump out of her chest, but it was held hostage by that raven-haired interloper. Wiping her eyes because she thought, surely, she must cry, the blonde pulled back her fingers—still dry. The tears would not come.  
  
So it had begun. New York in the winter was dismal and with her heart on her sleeve, the blonde found that she had lost her heart for hearts. Every open chest cavity mocked her, the ice queen with no heart, and was a reminder that she wasn’t who she thought she was. She would steal this heart, like she would steal any other heart, if it came down to it. If she had to choose between saving the nymph that haunted her from 3,000 miles away or following the rules, she would break the rules. Every cut of the scalpel was a mark next to her name marking her as an impostor.  
  
Each soul wrenching moment between patient and loved one reminded her of the love she denied. She wondered from time to time if the love she saw between these people was real, was based on truth, and if it was a love that could withstand the kind of revelations that she had been expected to endure. In those moments, she almost felt the tears come, almost was able to let go, almost could imagine a love that strong. Then, it would snap as a machine beeped or the code team rushed by in the hall. She would come so close to letting go, only to finally imagine brown eyes so dark they shone black in the moonlight and to feel the possibility of fate just around the corner.  
  
Just as Spring was beginning in earnest, a transplant was scheduled. The blonde arrived before the transplant team and prepped her patient and herself for the moment. She felt a giddy kind of hope that confused her about this relatively routine procedure, but she rarely had these premonitions and good things always followed them. Cristina Yang walked in with the organ in the carrier and the blonde felt her heart begin to beat once more. Hope pushed at the doors of its cage wanting to be let out.  
  
With the focus of the ice queen and the quiet determination of the young Cristina Yang, the transplant went flawlessly. The blonde made a beeline for the scrub room afterwards, but Cristina was not to be shaken off.  
  
“Dr. Hahn. Erica.” She waited until the blonde turned to look at her.   
  
Fear battled with hope in her mind as she tried to glare at Yang.  
  
Cristina blew air out of her lips in an indignant puff. After a millennium, she was tired of the intern just become resident act. “You know what is meant to be, Erica.” Cristina’s eyes brightened with an inhuman glow. “Stop fighting it and come home.” Cristina backed up to the scrub room doors and as she slipped out she added, “She’s waiting for you.”  
  
New York had been left behind on a red-eye. London—she thought was the perfect place to hide the moon. It was dreary and wet. The hope that had flared in her heart stilled and she felt like she was waiting. Every day she went to work like a pacing animal. She did not understand it, but she felt it. She sensed the presence waiting for her to return, to reunite. What’s more a growing part of her wanted to return. She had to fight herself harder and harder every day.   
  
One morning, waiting with a white coffee in hand, Mark Sloan was there to rattle her cage and shake the bars. He greeted her with a kiss she did not want and a predatory sniff of her hair. She slapped his arm and in outrage asked, “What are you doing here, Sloan?” Her voice was throaty and it had the hint of a purr deep in its tones. She shook her head slightly as if she had tasted something bad. She should not engage anyone from Seattle. Instead she should run. Some part of her wanted contact, news, or confirmation perhaps. She followed him like a lamb to a nearby consultation room.  
  
“I wonder.” He began as he looked into her uncertain eyes. “I wanted you for myself, you know. But she gets what she wants, Erica.” He reached out as if to touch her and her eyes fluttered but stayed open. He dropped his hand to his side again. “Come home. You’re not happy here.” He tilted his head and a wave of concern washed over the blonde filling her with a feeling she had never felt before—a feeling that scared her and warmed her in equal measures. Homesick—it was a strange conflicted feeling, but she wanted to follow him out the door and across the ocean in that moment. “Here.” He said so quietly she thought she was hearing things. She took the coffee from his hand and he left with such lightning speed that she was stunned when the door shut after she knew he was long gone. She stepped out into the hallway. It was deserted. There was not even a fluttering of a paper or the dinging of the elevator at the far end of the hall.  
  
London was rolled up in a blanket of fog as the blonde stepped out of the train station in Paris. A season had gone by in New York, two months in London, and inside of a month in Paris, the blonde felt the presence before she saw her. In a small rented apartment, the door opened into a darkened living space. Music was playing and the windows were open to the full light of the moon. A figure stood in the darkness looking out over the city lights. The blonde turned to hang her bag. The fear of being hurt had faded with time. She had lived this long and in exhaustion had just had to give that level of fear up. As long as she was away from the raven-haired nymph, she felt she had a modicum of control and safety. It was as if only her dark eyed lover could touch her. Mark had wanted to, but shied away from it. Cristina had emanated an anger that could have been physical, but she had moved away rather than acting on the impulse.  
  
This time the blonde was unsure of what to expect, but she was certain it wasn’t death.  
  
Ignoring this new invader, the blonde went into the bedroom and changed clothes. Then she went to the dressing area and washed her face from the day’s stress. It had been a long day and she took deep breaths to relax herself before talking to this interloper. The window of the living room was still wide open and the sheer curtain was rustling in the breeze it made. Her visitor was no longer in view, but she stepped forward to close the window anyway. Addison would make herself known she was sure of it. Reaching out to close the window the blonde felt her companion standing close behind her. “Your body is hungry.” The red head’s voice whispered into her ears like a possessing drum beat. “You long for home, don’t you?” Addison reached up and held Erica’s outstretched arms lightly. Then she ran her hands along the blonde’s arms all the way up to her shoulders and then down the flimsy fabric of her green camisole. Erica closed her eyes trying not to react to the first touch she had had since leaving, and the first sensual touch since the nymph had captured her heart. “You are ready to come. Why don’t you?”  
  
Addison smoothed the hair off of Erica’s neck and let her finger gently slide along the curve from hairline to thin green strap and up again. Bringing her mouth dangerously close to Erica’s pulse point, she let her breath spill out with her words on the skin. “This touch.” Erica leaned her head back toward Addison. “Is not the touch that you need.”   
  
Erica whimpered, “No.” So many words ran through her mind that there was a complete back up and nothing escaped her pink lips. Her body was singing though and her heart was on fire.  
  
“You should come back, Erica.” Addison let her lips just brush the edge of Erica’s ear lobe. “You should come.” Erica did not hear her leave, but she felt suddenly colder and her breath burned in her throat. She turned and curled up on the couch finally crying tears of frustration.  
  
Addison had been right. She wanted to come home. She wanted to come. She did not want Addison’s touch, but the touch of the one. The one they all seemed to serve in some capacity. The one whose reach extended far beyond Seattle.  
  
“No.” Erica muttered to the shadows over and over as she rocked and held herself.  
  
The sunrise was the springboard she needed and the memory of each visitor was her fuel. Erica became a nomad losing her possessions, her name, fleeing from everything she once was. She could not be who she had thought she was anymore, but she could not be who the raven wanted her to be either. So, she became fluid as the wind—going anywhere and allowing herself to be whatever she needed to be in the moment. In China, she was a traveler. In Mongolia, she was a trader. In Tibet, she was looking for knowledge of the universe. Down and across Eastern Europe, she worked her way as a journalist, medic, missionary, educator, and Hollywood scout. Waking each day as someone new, kept her on the run and kept her from thinking too far back in time. Like a washed up treasure from the ocean depths, she found herself resting on the shores of Dakar.  
  
*** *** ***  
  
**_Slip into silent slumber  
Sail on a silver mist  
Slowly and surely your senses  
Will cease to resist_**  
  
*** *** ***  
  
It had only been a few days since she arrived, but her weariness had finally stopped her in her tracks. She had found a medic job at the airport under her assumed name. The documents she had picked up in various cities and times weaved a different story behind her than the one that haunted her in her waking dreams. The people were friendly, but not inquisitive. Her body relaxed as it felt safe here. There were no difficult questions, just stories told and offers made to include her. Idrisa, her fellow medic, had invited her to the celebration this evening. With a large smile and a pat on the back they had toasted to their new friendship. He told a funny story about his family and Erica had agreed to come to the party. Music and food would provide a good way to enjoy the moment and she was so in need of a break. The hair on the back of her neck prickled when he explained his name meant ‘Immortal,’ but she was too weary to really worry herself about such a coincidence.  
  
She had lost herself in the heavy feel of the drums’ vibrations and the swirls of color surrounding her under the open-air tent. The food had simply been divine. The wine was not wine, but she didn’t care anymore—her sensory over load made her succumb to the luxury of all the textures. Memories and desires that she had kept at bay filled her mind and her body, until she fell against the smoothness of the pillow. Her hair billowed out against the deep maroon fabric and the moonlight streamed in bright enough to burn. Brown eyes had flashed at her from the shadows all evening and she felt them looking at her with desire as she lay back on her bed.  
  
Writhing to feel the sheets slide against her skin, Erica moaned in delight. Keeping her legs tight together she wiggled pressing her sex together and teasing herself. Her left hand tangled in her hair pulling it lightly so that she could feel her scalp pull with a tingle down her body. The right hand trailed fingers across her face and she bit the tip of her finger before letting it slide down her body and over her hip as she tossed and turned. Her left hand smoothed her hair up the pillow and then landed on her nipple that was pressed up as she arched her body. Blood and drink and passion coursed through her veins and for once she hoped that her demon had caught up with her.  
**_  
Shut your eyes._**  
  
Riding the wave of desire, Erica let her eyes flutter shut. She did not let it bother her that there was a voice in her head. She had longed to hear this voice for so long that letting herself go now—felt like heaven. Erica’s leg propped up and she let her fingers just touch the top of her blonde curls. She held a breath in anticipation of knowing how wet she was already.  
  
**_Sail on a silver mist._**  
  
Erica let her fingertip trail through her wetness all the way up from her opening to her clit. Her leg fell to the side spreading her sex open. Erica moaned and her back arched as she let two fingers follow the same path. Her left thumb and fore finger pinched and pulled hard on her nipple. The fingertips hovered over her opening as Erica breathed in and out.  
  
**_Slowly and surely your senses._**  
  
Erica teased herself, as if she had left her body and could withstand more than usual.  She propped herself up on one elbow and thrummed a steady fingertip just where it would matter most.  She whimpered and then breathlessly murmured, “Cease to resist.” It was a whisper to the shadows of the room, but she felt the eyes on her more tonight than any other.  
  
The bed dipped near her feet and Erica felt a hand on each of her thighs. She rolled her hips up and around as she continued stoking her erotic fire. Defiantly, she opened her eyes looking into dark shining ones. Without breaking eye contact the darker hand of the shadows reached down and stilled Erica’s hand.  
  
**_Trust in me._**  
  
The eyes asked without blinking. Her touch was gentle, but firm. It was not enough to satiate the hunger in the blonde’s veins and body. Her mind flashed red in frustration, but the hand did not move, nor did the eyes blink. Erica moved her hips on her own hand in an act of futile disobedience. The thumb slipped under and against the blonde’s palm and her mouth fell open. The darker hand tightened on hers and pulled the fingers away. Erica’s mouth snapped shut trapping all protests in her throat, but her body shuddered its own betrayal.  
  
**_Just in me._**  
  
The thought was insistent, but not pleading or angry. Erica knew that she did not have any fight left in her. Not in the presence of the dark haired nymph that had so completely captured her heart and melted the ice of the ice queen. There was no more running.  
  
Erica’s hand was brought up to the dark crimson of supple lips and it was kissed and licked so delicately that Erica thought she would lose her mind. The promise of those lips had been love and destiny to mate forever. She had been afraid, but who wouldn’t have been. She had been changed which was scary, but not changing was death. She had been miserable without her. Erica wanted the promise even if it was her end.  
  
“Yes.” She breathed out and let her head crush against the pillow.  
  
**_Knowing I am around._**  
  
“Oh, yes.” Erica moaned as the naked body of her lover descended over hers. The crush of their skin together electrified the already magical air. Arms and legs wrapped around each other. They kissed and rolled about on the bed each feasting on the other: lips sucked, nipples bitten, tongues licked against each other. Eyes locked together, Callie at last bared her teeth in the moonlight.   
  
**_Follow me._**  
  
The idea had once frightened Erica to the point that she had fled around the globe staying on the run to avoid discovery. Along the way, she had discovered things about herself and the reality of a once frightening idea was now the most longed for fulfillment of dream.  
  
A bite on her neck along with a suck felt delicious as always. The prick of the teeth felt as any other love bite before it. Only when the sucking continued and she felt weak while euphoric did Erica feel the difference in this. Her heartbeat slowed and just when she wanted to panic the fingers against her sex began to tease again. The arousal was like nothing ever before and lights began immediately going off behind her eyes. Her body shaking hard, Erica finally fell back against the mattress as Callie released her neck.  
**_  
Follow._**  
  
Over her lover, Callie bared her throat making it more accessible to Erica. When Callie moved Erica wrapped her arm around Callie’s back. At first, she could only nibble, but she felt an insistent presence pulling her toward the darkness of her mind. This was a different danger and Erica surrendered to it by finally biting into Callie’s flesh and sucking the delicious ambrosia she tasted there. It was like the drink masquerading as wine at the party that evening and Erica swallowed and swallowed taking her fill.  
  
As her strength buoyed, Erica changed the embrace rolling with Callie, until she was above her lover. She angled her sex over Callie’s in a way that made both of them moan. Feeling Callie’s blood course through her veins built in intensity like her orgasm until she pulled away panting for breath. Below her Callie held her hips still as she moved a final time and then they were both moaning and shaking the release of nearly a year’s pent up passion.  
  
A slow kiss let them taste each other on their tongues in a new way.  
  
Overcome and her body transforming, Erica sighed against Callie’s chest and slid until she was curling against Callie’s side. Accommodating her, Callie shifted so that she held her lover in her arms and could throw a protective leg over her. Before Erica’s breathing evened out completely she heard:  
  
**_Slip into silent slumber._**  
  
Erica nodded and let out a sleepy satisfied sound. Her breathing found a pleasant rhythm and Callie continued to stroke her body through the night. The human part of her was dying, but the immortal part of her would last forever. Callie patiently waited for her lover to emerge in the morning so that they could greet a new day on the horizon and begin a new life together. It had been many decades since she had been in this part of the world. Perhaps it was time to leave the continuous cycle of intern, resident, and attending behind for a different life. With Erica finally, she felt her heart was at home. The blonde had so completely enraptured her senses that thoughts of chasing her down were all she could focus on the past year despite pleas from her underlings to let her go. In her heart, she knew that Erica would trust in her eventually and look past her fears. It wasn’t sleep for her, but Callie let herself be carried away in dreams as they lay together.  
  
*** *** ***  
  
**_Trust in me, just in me  
Shut your eyes and trust in me_**  
  
*** *** ***  
  
****_—FIN._

 

 

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